


Grey Area

by InquiryFoxtrot



Category: Sander Sides, Thomas Sanders, Thomas Sanders (Video Blogging RPF) - Fandom
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Eventual Relationships, Insanity, M/M, Multi, Past Relationship(s), Torture, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence, angel!roman, because this one if gonna be rough, demon!virgil, fallen angel AU, human!logan, human!patton, i hope you're ready to board the angst train, medium!logan, miracle!patton
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-02-08 14:56:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12866919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InquiryFoxtrot/pseuds/InquiryFoxtrot
Summary: Virgil's time on Earth had been pretty peaceful, well as peaceful as they could when he was friends with Patton Sanders and Logan Williams, two humans with an uncanny knack for causing trouble. But when an old friend visits and becomes a new foe Virgil realizes that nothing will be peaceful again. Oh, and to top it all off, did he mention Roman's here too?





	1. An Introduction

At first glance, you would guess that Virgil would most likely believe in ghosts. He just kind of gave off that sort of vibe, like you wouldn’t be surprised if he was secretly a satanist. But, in all actuality, Virgil would deny the existence of the supernatural until his dying day. 

He’d heard all the arguments, seen all the evidence, he’d watched every goddamn ghost sighting on the entirety of the internet, but no matter what proof he saw he’d still look Patton dead in the eyes and say he didn’t believe the supernatural.

Especially demons and all the other religious mojo that Patton talked about endlessly. See, he could sometimes concede that ghosts made sense, the possibility of just getting stuck and never finding peace always managed to sway Virgil a little bit, an odd, unidentifiable look flashing over his eyes when Patton talked about it. But demons? Nope, nada, never in a million years would Virgil admit to the possibility of demons.

“Entire entities focused on making human lives miserable?” Virgil had asked Patton during one of their many debates. “I mean, I relate but that just seems a bit much. I appreciate the effort though.” He’d scoffed, rolling his eyes.

He was even less keen on talking about angels. He’d grumble and scowl at the mere mention of them. He’d grovel that if angels existed, why hadn’t they released him from this horrid plane of existence (only partially a joke.) He’d claim that if demons weren’t real angels couldn’t be either and he’d stick to that belief until the day he died and probably a little while after that too. But something was always off when Patton mentioned the supernatural to him, and that’s what kept his stubbornness fueled.

See, Patton, on the other hand, loved everything paranormal related. Once Logan had entertained to him the thought of a whole other plane of existence simultaneously living with this one, it just clicked. There was a comfort in believing that the chilly breeze in his kitchen wasn’t just an updraft but was actually just his grandmother, playfully reminding him to wash the dishes. Or the persistent creak of his bathroom door was his younger brother, asking him to play.

Patton liked to fantasize about the ‘gaurdian angel’ that protected him from afar. He liked to think that it kept him away from all that was bad bad and was gently steering him towards everything good. To Patton, the supernatural was safe, it was comforting. He didn’t believe that the spirit of a serial killer was in his basement, waiting to murder him in his sleep, he believed that anyone could haunt you, and, more often then not, they just wanted to say hi. 

Logan was a little more agnostic. Sure, ghosts, demons and the like seemed cool in theory but in practicality the chances of them being real were small. He didn’t really believe in ghosts but he loved to entertain the idea from time to time, and, if he was being honest, Logan found Patton’s infatuation with it adorable.   

Travelling to a haunted house in the middle of the night though? Not as adorable.

“But guys! Wouldn’t it be cool to visit this place!” Patton exclaimed with a grin to his unenthused companions. “There’s like a million reports of it being haunted and there’s supposed to be a demon there guys. A demon!” He threw his hands up.

“Isn’t trespassing on private property illegal?” Virgil asked smirking.

“Virgil is correct Patton, while this trip could be exciting it would be unadvisable to risk detainment.” Logan pointed out.

‘No, no, no, it’ll be fine. I called the property owners, as long as you make a reservation before hand you’re good to go!” Patton cried excitedly and Logan rolled his eyes.

“Maybe, but this seems incredibly spontaneous, even for you,” He replied. “Any reason for this new ghost busting adventure.” He queried and Patton shrugged.

“No reason, I just knew we had to go,I had one of those weird feelings, ya know” Patton flopped over Logan’s lap as he knit his brows in confusion, he did not ‘know.’ 

“Explain?”

“I don’t really know how to explain it, I just felt like something really bad would happen if we didn’t go.” Patton sat up, leaning on the arm of Logan’s chair. “Soooooooo, will you come? Please?” He clasped his hands together and gave Logan his best puppy eyes.

“Alright, fine,” He relented, chuckling and turned to Virgil, who was deathly pal and looked as if he had just, ironically, seen a ghost. “Are you coming as well?”

“I-I’ll be right back,” He stammered abruptly standing up and scurrying to the bathroom. Patton sent Logan a confounded look. Logan shook his head.

“We’ll talk to Virgil when he returns, I assume he wants and needs to be alone right now.” He advised and Patton nodded tentatively.

Virgil slammed the door behind him, making sure it was locked tightly. He gripped the porcelain sink tightly, pulling his shirt so it pressed uncomfortably against his back. He was fine, he’d only imagined the twitch he felt earlier, nothing was wrong, he was fine he was fine he was fine. Relaxing his grip, he quickly turned and pulled up his shirt, exposing his pale skin. He ran his hand gingerly over the smooth surface, breathing a sigh of relief, nothing was threatening to break its way to the surface, everything was fine. But that still didn’t quell the paranoia lingering in the back of his head, the last time Virgil had felt a twitch like this had not ended well.

He leaned down, closing his eyes and resting his forehead on the cool surface of the sink. Just breathe Virgil, c’mon you can do it. He took a deep steadying breath and opened his eyes.

Something caught his eye when he did though, something that made his throat close and his heart hammer in his chest. A single black feather lying at his feet. Dread bubbled in Virgil’s stomach, laced with something he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Patton was right, something horrible was about to happen, he could just feel it.


	2. Into The Unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An angel searches for an old friend and Patton prepares for his demon hunting adventure.

The angel walked with determination. His shoes clapped rhythmically on the sidewalk, the only noise on the street lamp lighted road. Rows of buildings stretched on either side of him, and he could see the shadows of people through the lit windows. It was a little bit suffocating, how full of energy they were, they were so hopelessly alive and the angel hated it. They never understood how lucky they were, that they could just live their lives and just be. It made jealousy churned his stomach and left a sour taste on his tongue, it made him long for something he couldn’t have, which rarely ended well. The angel turned his head away before he could dwell on the fact much longer.

He walked on. To the common passerby he looked as though he were wandering aimlessly, his eyes unfocused and his pace. But each step was carefully calculated, his eyes feeling for a life force he hadn’t felt in a very long time, it was faint and felt unfamiliar on his tongue but there nonetheless.

He had been wandering for weeks. Drifting from town to town, country to country. The angel was surprised _he_ hadn’t noticed when he landed, swooping down to a roman cathedral, showered in a gallivant show of divine light, his heavenly blade held high, he always had a flair for the dramatics. It had given the mortals quite a fright. They probably thought he was a madman when he kept adamantly asking them where _he_ was. Honestly, he had felt a little crazy himself, even if he could find _him_ , _he’d_ probably kick him out before he got to say a word. 

But why _he_ was here on Earth with the mortals the angel would never understand. They were unbearably boring and they died way too easily. While morbid, it was true, he had felt at least twenty mortals die in the last hour. And they were terribly judgey, his heavenly outfit apparently didn’t cut it on Earth so he was forced to change into these terribly plain clothes, there wasn’t any gold on them at _all_. Where was the drama, the excitement! It was so different then the last time he had visited humanity. He’d taken a small vacation to Earth during the dark ages and another during the 17th century and it saddened him to know how much more boring humanity had gotten. He missed the public executions, the duels to the death, the empires that sought domination over Europe. He sighed, of course _he_ would choose the least interesting time to come to Earth. 

He froze. A new wave of _his_ aura coating him from head to toe. He felt it, _he’s here he’s here he’s here he’s here he’s here_ , his mind screamed at him as the angel turned, facing the tall building, there were so many people in there, the whole building felt alive, thrumming with the communal pulse of their life forces and the loudest beat of them all was **_his_** , blanketing all the others. 

He couldn’t believe it, after all that time searching… he finally found _him_. His heart pounded with a new kind of nervous excitement, he’d never felt this way before. He was almost too nervous to go in. So many things could go wrong, _he_ could throw him out, scream all the things the angel did that hurt _him_ until everyone within a five mile radius knew how horrible the angel really was, _he_ could kill him if _he_ really wanted to. Or, worst of all, _he_ could do nothing, _he_ could listen to the angel, here what he had to say and do nothing at all, and that terrified the angel the most. Anything else he could deal with, but silence meant _he_ had thrown him out of his life completely and the angel still wasn’t ready to move on.

But he couldn’t fail _him_ again, if he didn’t warn _him_ it was more than just _his_ home on the line, it was _his_ life. He took a deep breath, no matter what happened, the only thing that mattered was that _he_ was alive and safe. 

He opened the building door and entered the small lobby, to his right sat a middle aged man who looked like he hadn’t bathed in weeks. His brown hair was unkempt and his beard was covered in dirt and had bits of food sticking out of it. He was eating small fluorescent orange snacks out of an equally obnoxious bag, eyes trained on the screen in front of him as he watched a show in some foreign language, he thought it was Japanese but he wasn’t sure, language had always been more of Uriel’s sort of thing.

“Residents only buddy, can I see some ID?” The man asked, his voice monotone and _god_ , he could smell his breath from across the room, had that man ever heard of a toothbrush? Or even some mouthwash.

“I’m just visiting,” He choked out, hand over his mouth as he hurried up the stairs, desperate to escape the putrid smells as he ignored the man’s protests. Once he was safely out of the danger zone he relaxed. His whole body felt alive with a feeling he couldn’t describe, he knew it was the home stretch of his journey. He let his body go on autopilot, blindly scouring the different floors as his life force drew closer. 

Memories accompanied the feeling, memories of midnight picnics in Eden, or his impromptu concerts while the angel sang with Heman and his choir, of afternoons in Harahel’s grand library, reading the day away, or of lazy mornings in the garden’s of the angel’s brothers, or even of light hearted duels in the armory, constantly challenging the other to be better. He longed for it, he longed for _him_. But it had been too long, too many people had been hurt, too many bonds were broken and there was no longer time to repair them, and while the angel hated that this was how they would have their reunion, he knew there was no other way.

It was on the sixth floor that he found _him_ , twenty seven steps to the right, door number 372. All it took was a simple thought and the door unlocked, welcoming the angel inside. _His_ life force hit him like a tidal wave, knocking the air from his chest and overwhelming him with emotion, letting several lonely tears leaked out. _He_ wasn’t there at the moment but there was so much of _him_ there that the angel knew _he’d_ return, _he_ had too. He stumbled into the kitchen and sat down, gripping the sides of the black stool that sat around _his_ island counter. He covered his mouth, letting himself silently sob as he imagined _his_ life force wrapping itself around him, blanketing him in its warmth. 

_Oh Virgil_ , He thought, closing his eyes and releasing a shuddering breath. _How I’ve missed you._

o0o 

Patton was absolutely buzzing with excitement. He had been to plenty of haunted houses, haunted forests, haunted asylums, etc. If it had “haunted” in the name, Patton had been to it. But he had never been to a demon house, all the ones he was interested in were too far for him to travel too and any places that were close enough were closed off to the public. But then he found this place.

He had been browsing facebook late one night when he found it. An old friend from high school, who knew of Patton’s old unabashed love for the supernatural, had visited the house and sent Patton a message about it. His friend had said it was the ‘real deal,’ that it had scared the living daylights out of him. His friend was convinced there was actually something there and he was still having nightmares about it. That’s all it took to get Patton hooked. He clicked the link his friend sent and spent all night reading. 

He learned about the house’s construction in the 1850s and it’s refurnishing in the 1970s. He learned of the fifteen families that had lived there over its 170 years and a detailed document of what had happened to them.

But most importantly, he learned of what _else_ lived there. The earliest document was in 1872, a young girl that adamantly talked to her parents about her imaginary friend, Victor. Apparently, Victor liked to play with the little girl, moving her toys around and writing things on the wall. The parents, whom Victor wasn’t as nice too, moved them and their daughter out of the house in 1875. But Victor kept reappearing, he scratched the backs of an elderly couple in 1884, he tore up the walls while terrorizing a small family in 1899, during World War I he imitated gunshots, bombs and screams, horrifying already distraught families.

Around 1940 Victor seemed to disappear but that didn’t seem to stop the demonic presence in the home. Two new creatures seemed to take his place, they were much more active than their predecessor, they moved objects around, tapped shoulders in the night, wrote on the walls, they did anything they liked. No one ever caught their names but Paranormal investigators and mediums who communicated with them reported hearing the two spirits talk of their pranks and mischief, earning them the nickname, Missy and Pranks. 

The house finally closed for good in 1973. A young couple, Alana and Elyse Smith were endlessly tormented by a spirit that was worse than any other the house had seen before, it was more active than Victor, it was more brutal than the anonymous spirits from before, it was truly malicious. No one truly knows what happened October 3rd, 1973 except that lonely couple and the creature that tormented them but the next day the neighbors had found their bodies broken and their blood covering the house. 

Patton had to stop reading there. He tucked his laptop away and tried and failed to sleep the rest of the night, the story had left him with a small nauseous feeling. In the morning he returned, skipping the Smith’s story and instead researching the house as a business. Now it was open to tours and reserved overnight stays and all the reviews were positive so Patton decided to give visiting a shot. 

He refuse to go alone though, hence his insistence on Virgil and Logan going with him. He’d managed to convince both of them (Virgil had agreed reluctantly, saying that if they were going they sure as hell weren’t going alone) to go with him and now the big day was finally here. Not surprisingly, however, his excitement was laced with stomach churning fear. 

“Are you alright Patton?” Logan asked, perceptive as ever. 

“Mmm, okay I guess,” He replied. “I’m a little scared though, if I’m being honest.” He nervously chuckled, thoughts flashing back to the Smiths. 

“If it’s any consolation Patton, the chances of this demon even being real, much less scaring or hurting you, is very low, so I wouldn’t worry too much.” Logan said and gave Patton a small smile. 

“Besides,” Virgil smirked. “If anything did try and hurt you I’d just cut it’s legs off.” Patton wished he could say Virgil was just joking, but he didn’t doubt it for a second. He looked downright terrifying in his black leather jacket, adjourned with chains and spikes, ripped jeans and shirt, and combat boots. His dark eyeshadow contrasted harshly with the silver glint of his many piercings. He looked like he was either going to summon a demon, or kick it’s ass…. Probably both. 

Logan was also dressed for the occasion, but less dramatic. Although he’d never admit it to anyone, especially Patton (although he was well aware) he loved to immerse himself in the atmosphere of an adventure, hence his current outfit. He’d swapped out his usual blue tie for a thin dark red one, worn his nice black dress shirt and adorned a sharp black vest. 

Patton merely took the cardigan he usually had wrapped around his shoulders and put it on. Something he did when he was feeling especially excited, scared, or sad. They had been on the road for a while now, Patton in the driver’s seat as Logan rattled off directions to him from the passenger side while Virgil stared (glared?) out the window as the streetlamps flew by, illuminating his face in a sort of shadowy glow. 

“Turn left here, Patton.” Logan ordered as they came to a small street tucked in the middle of the Florida suburbs. “It’ll be the sixth house on the left.” Patton slowed the car to a stop and parked in front. As the trio hopped out of the car Patton marveled at how ordinary it all seemed. If he hadn’t known the true nature of the home he wouldn’t have given it much thought. It was average sized, perfect for a family of three or four, the walls were white and beige and there was a small garden in the front yard, almost identical to every other house on the street.

If Patton could’ve gotten more excited it would’ve been then. This was the height of his ghost hunting extravaganza. 

“Alright kiddos, let’s do this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who is this new character? 0.0 Bet you'll never guess (even though its hella obvious)


	3. Haunting Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil encounters someone he hasn't seen in a very long time

Virgil felt his anxiety skyrocket. His stomach was churning, his heart was pounding, his face was burning and his hands were covered in cold sweat. 

He knew this place.

The address had changed and it had been refurbished but he knew this house. It was his house. He had lived in that house for seventy years, he could still feel trace remnants of his life force in the house, even after all this time. He could feel another presence in the house, something different, not a demon, but not an angel either. He tilted his head. Nothing else was supposed to be here. It should just be Missy and Pranks, this house was his gift to them. He could feel them too, he could feel their emotions on the property. They were-

Virgil paused, they were scared. Another wave of nausea rolled through him, he’d known the two demons for thousands and thousands of years and they had never gotten scared, not once. Not when Virgil confessed the severity of the rebellion, not when Father cast them into Hell, not even during the first Great War. If whatever was in there could frighten the mightiest of Hell’s warriors then Virgil almost didn’t want to go inside.

Almost.

He still felt that… premonition from before, he needed to go in that house and find out what happened to them, if only to satiate his curiosity. But there was a certain spark of excitement that came with it too, he felt like he was solving a great mystery, it was at least a distraction from his worries over the two. He could see why Patton enjoyed it so much.

The man in question was adamantly blabbering to the property owners, who were giving Patton the keys and the basic rules they had to follow. Virgil could practically see the excitement dripping off him and he was physically _vibrating_ in anticipation. He turned and waved brightly to him and Logan, seemingly unaware of the dark aura the house omitted. 

Or maybe he felt it too, Patton had a way of overpowering the evil energies that gravitated to Virgil, or maybe he diverted them, he could never be sure with Patton. He had always had that air about him, Virgil thought he was divine when he first met him. He almost murdered him when they first met, convinced he was an angel Father sent to spy on him, but it was obvious he wasn’t an angel, Patton was too pure and kind-hearted. He’d met only a few angels as kind as Patton, and all had been corrupted for their naivety. 

Logan squeezed his hand, he always knew when Virgil needed comfort, even if he didn’t know why. Logan’s a medium, he doesn’t know it yet but Virgil had sensed something was there the moment they met. He knows everything of the spiritual world, he’s a gateway from this world to the next, he could travel with spirits, talk to them, harbor them inside him. One day Virgil would like to teach Logan to handle his power but he needs to realize it for himself first. Honestly, he wondered how someone so smart still hasn’t realized something so large about himself. He’d probably never know.

But perhaps that’s why Virgil clicked with them so well, they reminded him of home, Logan with his spiritual connections and Patton with his strange connection to divinity. And maybe their cluelessness to the world around them, no, definitely their cluelessness. It’s nice to not have to worry for a change. 

And that’s most likely why he’s so nervous for tonight, he doesn’t know why but tonight is going to change things, after tonight Virgil will have to start worrying again, he can just feel it.

Patton skips over, breaking Virgil from his train of thought.  

“It’s time guys! We can go in now!” He bounced excitedly, holding his overnight bag tightly to his chest. “The only rules were to avoid destroying the place and stay out of the master bedroom so let’s go let’s go let’s go!” He grabbed the cuffs of his and Logan’s sleeves and dragged them inside.

The inside of the house was just as unsuspecting as the outside, the living room was painted a light beige, with a brown sofa pushed to the back wall facing an old television, probably from the 1980s. Next to that was a tall lamp, coat hanger, and a small window faced back out towards the front lawn. Connected to that was a small kitchen, with antique wood cabinets and a baby blue backsplash. 

Virgil flicked the light switch the set his bag on the couch. “Well doesn’t this place seem creepy,” He remarked, turning to face his companions. 

“Indeed,” Logan replied, giving Patton an unenthused glare. “If you drove us all the way out here for some fun house I will murder you.” Patton frowned. 

“Don’t bash the place just yet, we’ve barely looked around!” Patton pulled out a notepad from his bag and laid it out in front of him. “Look, I’ve got a whole bunch of notes on this place and even a map of the most active areas.” Logan shot him a confused look.

“Since when do you take notes?” He asked.

“I’ve always taken notes, I’m just not as obsessive about them as you are buddy,” Patton pointed out and Virgil snorted. 

“He’s got you there pocket protector,” Virgil smirked and Logan stuck out his tongue.

“Okay, so it looks like the most haunted areas are here and here.” Patton interrupted, pointing at the upstairs guest room and the basement. “So then we should go there first. We’ll split up, Logan and me and Virgil and- oh.” Patton’s face fell as he looked for the imaginary person Virgil would search around with.

“We should search as a group anyway,” Logan suggested. “Splitting up almost ensures death in these types of scenarios. It’s common sense people.”

“Yeah, if you’re in a horror movie or book, which we aren’t-”

“ ** _fALSEHOOD!_** ” Logan screeched, startling Patton and sending Virgil flying ten feet into the air. 

“Logan, dude, warn a guy next time!” Virgil pleaded, clutching his chest. Logan cleared his throat and adjusted his tie.

“My apologies, I meant that we don’t know if we’re in a horror movie or not, objective-” Logan started as Virgil cut him off.

“If I wanted to hear more of your existential reasoning I would’ve called like I usually do.” Virgil sighed and turned back to Patton. “Anyway, I don’t mind going alone, but I call dibs on the basement.”

“Why the basement?” Patton questioned and Virgil shrugged.

“Seems cooler,” He waved his hand nonchalantly. He lied. The foreign presence he felt earlier was in that basement and Virgil would be damned if he let Logan and Patton anywhere near it. _(You’re already damned though.)_ His mind crooned. _(Can’t bet your soul and something you’ve already experienced)_ He internally told himself to shut up.

“Fine,” Patton relented, obviously unhappy, but Virgil was glad he didn’t put up much of a fight. “But you have to promise we’ll switch in an hour, okay?” 

“Sure,” Virgil said, he hoped to have the spirit out in ten minutes tops, a demon of his rank tended to scare most spirits away, once it was gone Logan and Patton could have their fun, Virgil just needed to make sure the real danger passed. 

“Are we all good then?” Logan asked and both Patton and Virgil nodded. “Okay then, see you soon Virgil.” He nodded as he gestured to Patton and walked towards the stairs. 

“Good luck kiddo!” Patton smiled and gave Virgil a thumbs up. Virgil gave him a small smile and cast one quick look at the house map and walked towards the basement door. The temperature seemed to drop as he neared it and shivers crawled up his spine sending goosebumps down his arms. But that was fine, most areas were cold around the spirits, the energies of creatures around them being bled dry to give the spirit the energy to manifest. _(Never that cold though, something’s wrong Virgil)_ He mentally slapped the voice away.

He pulled the door handle roughly as dust flew from the staired corridor to Virgil’s position just above it, he coughed into his sleeve and looked down. It seemed like no one had been down there in years. Just from the entrance he could see the wood was full of mold and splinters and the insulation had holes in a it, cobwebs hung from the ceiling, some were the home to large spiders that had scrambled back to their webs. Virgil was suddenly even happier that Patton was upstairs, if he had been down here he would have screamed bloody murder at the spiders. 

Virgil walked down a couple steps, fumbling blindly for some light, his hands latched on to a chained light bulb that he yanked down harshly. A dim light cast itself down the rest of the stairs, where there was a another light switch for the rest of the basement. The scent of mildew filled his nose as he descended, the stairs creaking excessively when he stepped on them.

He let his energy leech off him as he descended. Each second was a warning for the being here to leave. He knew what he felt like. Ancient power and immense strength. His intimidation alone helped him survive years in the darkest corners of hell. He reached the basement floor with a final creak. 

He turned the rusted light switch on with difficulty and marveled at the sight before him. The walls were covered in sigils, thousands of them, one for every angel and demon there was. His heart pounded, no mortal soul knew all these sigils, they were sacred, only to be shared with each angel’s most trusted divinities. He traced his hand over the wall, feeling each sigil. _Adonael, Iofiel, Zadkiel, Rachiel_. These were his friends, his brothers, what were they doing here? Pulling his hand away he smelled it, these were blood sigils. You could summon any being you wanted with a blood sigil, they’d be indebted to you, forced to obey your command.  

Blood sigils are how angels die.

With new found urgency Virgil furiously scrubbed his sleeve against them, wiping the dried blood away and freeing any ties his family had on this house.  

“I pray you stop brother, you’re ruining all the fun,” A voice called out as a chilling wind swept throughout the room, shattering the lights. Although, called out wasn’t really the word Virgil should be using. It wasn’t speaking out loud, nor was it in his head, it seemed to drip off him in waves of sound and feeling. This was how angels and demons talked, and Virgil could recognize that voice anywhere.

“Amitiel,” He responded in relief. “Oh, brother, I’ve missed you but you’ve got to help me. _Something_ has our sigils and who knows what they could do with them-” Amitiel giggled.

“Oh this is too much,” He laughed, “Are you dumb brother dear, or has your time in hell blinded you to what was happening above?”

“What are you talking abou- oh…” Virgil said, the realization dawning on him. As he glanced around the room once more. It was obvious now, Amitiel was one of the most trusted angels in heaven or hell. He knew everyone’s sigil and more. “Oh, Amitiel, why?”

“All will be revealed in due time Virgil dear,” He cooed ominously. “For now, let’s take a journey.” And he vanished. Virgil immediately jumped after him, letting his physical form go and following Amitiel through the spirit realm.

The traveling allowed his mind to process what had happened. Amitiel, angel of truth, Father’s pride and joy, the oldest of Virgil’s brother’s, and his best friend, had painted these sigils, knowing full well the dangers it brought. The question, though, was why? He had no reason to, he was loved by all of Father’s creations, including father himself. The angels of his flock all held him dear, even the ones who had fallen. He was always call to bring an end to conflicts, he used to work side by side with Virgil to do what was right. He was everything an angel should be, what went wrong? 

They finally stopped in a quiet meadow outside the house’s town, taking up physical forms again. Amitiel looked exactly as Virgil remembered, his wreath of Bittersweet wrapped around his head, it’s golds and reds matching nicely with his gold plated armor and wind swept blonde hair. His eyes, like most divine beings, were an unnatural shade of red that turned orange in certain lights while freckles and battle scars danced across his face and limbs.

Virgil modified his appearance, changing his form to looks as it did before he fell. His crown of white heather and lavender felt familiar on his head, the plant signifying what type of angel he was. His armor was light and allowed for maximum mobility and the weight of his daggers on his ankles was cool and welcoming. His eyes glowed a deep purple, matching the black, purple, and white colors of the rest of him. 

“Ashamed of our looks now are we brother,” Amitiel crooned. Virgil stayed silent. “Not much of a talker hm? Devil got your tongue?” He laughed hysterically to himself. “But I guess not much has changed, you never really talked much up in heaven either.” 

“Why are we here Amitiel?” Virgil asked tiredly, crossing his arms nonchalantly, hiding his internal panic from his brother.

“I assume you want to know what’s going on Virge, so I thought we should start at the beginning. What does this place remind you of?” Amitiel asked, sitting on the grass.

“Eden,” Virgil replied immediately, the calm winds and warm temperature brought a sweet flowery scent that wafted around them. In the dark Virgil could see deer prancing and birds swooping over flower bushes and trees. All they needed to do was add a golden gate and they’d have their very own taste of Eden.

“This is where I land when I come to Earth, every single time I come to this spot because it’s basically an exact replica of the temperate section. There’s another place in the tundra just like it’s counterpart, and another in the desert, and another in every climate on Earth. How unfair is that? We’re not allowed in our childhood home and yet these humans get pieces of it for free.” Amitiel ranted, clutching the ground beneath him.

He was right to an extent, even after the rebellion Father made sure Eden became a neutral place, it was to special for anyone to let go. In fact, most places were neutral at first, fallen angels were viewed more as just the other side of the argument than as the wrong side. But after the serpent tempted Eve father cast everyone out of the garden. The angels blamed the demons, the demons swore they had nothing to do with it, and thus the first rivalry was born.

“That doesn’t explain much brother,” Virgil said.

“I’m not finished yet,” Amitiel replied. “But that got me thinking, why does father favor these humans so much? What had they done to make themselves that much better than us? And I was mad at the humans for a long time, I spent thousands of years among them, trying to see what father saw and then I saw the truth.” A crazy look passed over Amitiel’s eyes and Virgil tensed, reaching for his dagger.

“Amitiel, you’re scaring me.” Virgil said, his voice wavering but Amitiel continued like he hadn’t said a word.

“I saw it then, I knew. It wasn’t what Father saw in them, it was what Father didn’t see in us! We were corrupt and Father knew it. But we are better now! At least, those of still in heaven are, so we must be destroyed, then Father will know what he missed and he will make us superior again! Or, well, he’ll make me superior again as the rest of you will be dead.” He giggled maniacally.

“Brother, stop, you aren’t making any sense!” Virgil cried but Amitiel ignored him. Virgil, gripped his dagger and walked forward, prepared to fight if it came to it.

“Oh Virgil dear I’m making plenty of sense! Can’t you see what must be done! But I need everyone’s sigil and I almost have them all... Except yours.” He muttered darkly and another realization dawned on Virgil. Amitiel was planning to kill him. “But you never shared yours with anyone, not even dear old Roman.” But he did, he shared everything with Roman, oh god if he was here he would kiss him. But first Virgil needed to deal with the problem at hand, he prepared himself to launch at Amitiel but before Virgil could move a muscle, Amitiel was up and behind him, his knife pressed to Virgil’s neck and his sword poking Virgil’s back. 

“Turning the tables are we?” Virgil laughed humorlessly. “We used to work side by side brother, what happened?”

“Some of us fell, and some learned the truth.” Amitiel supplied. Pressing his blades down and drawing some blood. “I’m going to let you go, but remember, I will find that sigil, and the world will be mine.” Amitiel shoved Virgil away and vanished, leaving Virgil shaking in the grass. He pressed his hand to his neck and drew it away, the red blood shining like the red of his brother’s sigils.

_Holy shit. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit._ He needed to do something, he needed to help someone he needed- he needed Patton and Logan. With that he vanished into the spirit realm and raced towards the house, they had work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while guys! I've just been super busy. Hopefully this longer chapter makes up for it! And what are your thoughts on Amitiel? I have a ton of opinions but I want to hear yours!


	4. Revelations Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan and Patton hear some troubling things

Logan wasn’t quite sure how he ended up in this situation, sitting on the rough carpet of the upstairs bedroom, Patton’s Ouija board placed between them, attempting to talk to a ghost, or demon, or whatever the hell Patton thought was in this house.

The more obvious reasoning was that he’d foolishly agreed to come to Patton’s demon house in the first place. The more abstract, and probably more accurate reasoning was becoming Patton’s friend in the first place.

See if he wasn’t Patton’s friend he probably wouldn’t be here, freezing his ass off because the owners decided to turn the heat off and Patton thought it would be a good idea to come in the middle of October while Logan contemplated whether or not they’d die tonight. Instead, he could be at home, sipping a warm cup of tea and grading his students papers in peace.

To be completely honest, he wasn’t even sure how he managed to become Patton’s friend in the first place. It seemed like one day Logan was minding his own business and the next he had a human puppy glued to his side. At the time, his dorm roommate, Dominic, was the only sense of sanity he had. Patton was a fountain of seemingly endless energy.

Which was why he was extremely thankful for Virgil. While Patton was loud and up in the clouds, Virgil was quiet and down to earth, even if he did scare Logan from time to time. He was worried Virgil would be just like Patton when they first met. Patton had met him a month before Logan had and would not shut up about him. It was “Virgil this!” and “Virgil that!” and “Virgil’s so cute!” so Logan was prepared for a “human bunny,” as Patton so eloquently described him.

He was shocked when he finally did meet him. He accidentally ran into them while Logan was walking back home from work, where he was substitute teacher. He hadn’t known it was Virgil until Patton introduced him. 

“I’m sorry to be rude but, Patton, this is your adorable son I’ve been hearing nonstop about?” He’d cried in disbelief because on the outside Virgil did not look adorable. He had ripped black skinny jeans, a band shirt with some vulgar language printed in an aggressive font, and a black leather jacket (he later learned this was the nicest one he had, all the others were spiked and covered in chains and some were splattered with red paint, or, at least, Logan chose to believe it was red paint.) He was also wearing heavy dark makeup and had a plethora of piercings.

Later in their friendship Logan finally asked how many he had and he got the truly terrifying amount, four on one ear, five on the other, a lip ring, a nose ring, a septum piercing, two eyebrow piercings, and finally, a belly button piercing, but that wasn’t even getting into the tattoos. When he’d asked Virgil why he had so many piercings tattoos, he merely answered, “Beauty is pain.” and went back to painting his nails. He was half convinced Virgil enjoyed the pain. 

But he was getting off track. Somehow, Logan befriended both men and somewhere along the way Logan ended up here. Although, it didn’t seem too bad, the place was at least clean, which was better than what he could say for the basement, which was surely unfinished.

He directed his attention to the floor, where Patton had lit some candles in a circle around them. “What are these for?” He questioned as Patton shook out his match. 

“Oh, just to get in the mood,” He responded nonchalantly. “Now here, grab this and let’s start.” Patton gently put Logan’s hands on the planchette.

“I’ve done some research on how to use this, might I lead the ritual?” Logan suggested, quirking his brow.

“Sure!” Patton said with a small smile.

“Alright,” He took a deep breath and circled the planchette around the board as he spoke. “Spirits of all realms, kind or benevolent, we invite you to communicate with us tonight. Give us your wisdoms or your warnings, use our hands as your mouth and speak.” He paused to give any spirits a chance to appear. “Is anyone here with us?” To his surprise the planchette moved. He jerked his head at Patton to see if he was moving it but his companion seemed equally astonished.

_**Yes.**_ The spirit (spirits?) answered and Logan felt something strange flow through him. Like a cold wave, but it wasn’t unpleasant, it felt nice, empowering.

“How many of you are here?” Patton piped up and the feeling receded, like a tide receding from a shore, the planchette didn’t move.

“I don’t think it’s going to answer you,” Logan supplied and Patton pouted. “Let me ask instead, how many of you are here?” The feeling returned as the planchette moved again.

_**2**_ The spirits replied.

“What are your names spirits?” Logan asked, his heart pounding wildly, there were real live ghosts talking to him, to Logan, to plain old Logan. 

_**M i s s y**_ One spirits answered and Logan noticed how the feeling changed, like it was split in two, the predominant one, Missy perhaps, was chilling and cold, it felt manipulative almost.

_**P r a n k s**_ The other said after, this one felt more aggressive, like it was going to jump out and eat him. Logan opened his mouth to ask again but the planchette kept moving.

_**D e m o n s   n o t   s p i r i t s**_ Logan felt his blood run cold, he glanced up at Patton, whose face was deathly pale. 

“Are you here to hurt us?” Logan asked. 

_**M a y b**_ Pranks started. 

_**No.**_ Missy interrupted.

“Why are you here?” Patton tried again, nothing happened again until it moved very slowly. 

_**C    a    n     t   a      n    s    w    e    r   y     o     u**_ Missy whispered and Logan could feel their presence slipping away.

“Why?” Logan tilted his head.

_**N o t    s t r o n g    e n o u g h**_ Pranks supplied. He briefly wondered why they were strong enough to talk to him and not Patton but he left it alone.

_**W h e r e V** _ Missy interjected and Patton shot him a look.

“Aren’t they only supposed to answer questions?” He whispered.

“Yes, I don’t understand how they’re doing this. Perhaps it’s their demonic nature?” Logan fired back.

_**W h e r e V**_ Missy repeated, with more force this time.

“I don’t know, I don’t know where V is. Who is V, Missy?” He asked, panic creeping into his voice.

_**V i r-** _

“Virgil?” Logan interrupted, his voice barely above a whisper. He prayed it wasn’t true but he could feel their presences slipping and there were still things he needed to know.

_**Yes.**_ Pranks said and Patton and Logan shared a look.

_**G e t    V**_ Missy urgently spelled.

“Why do we need to get Virgil?” He asked. “Do you mean our Virgil? How do you know him?”

_**A      n    g    e    l      w    i   l    l     h     u   r     t     V       A    n     g     e    l     k    i    l   l    u    s**_ Pranks sloppily moved the planchette around the board, they seemed to realize they were fading too. 

“Who’s going to hurt Virgil?” Patton cried, as the planchette slowly moved towards the goodbye. 

“No, stop, we have more questions!” Logan called but the planchette moved anyway. 

_**Goodbye**_. He felt the two leave and the empowering feeling drain from him. Logan sagged, he felt exhausted after the communication, like the demons had drained his energy from him to speak. 

“Goodbye,” He muttered, defeated and circled the planchette over the goodbye.

“That was…” Patton trailed off, unsure of what to say. 

“Unsettling?” Logan offered. 

“Yeah.”

“Perhaps we should go find Virgil?” Logan got up, dusting himself off shakily. 

“I- no, I need to check something else out first,” Patton said as he folded up the Ouija board and put it back in it’s box. “Actually, we need to check something out. We need to go check the master bedroom.” Logan paused, Patton normally followed the rules, he wasn’t as much of a stickler as Logan was but he’d never seen him outright disobey a rule. 

“Do you believe that’s necessary Patton? The property owners specifically to-” He tried to reason as Patton interjected. 

“Maybe before, when this was just another haunting, but now this is something way bigger. There’s a reason we’re not allowed in the master bedroom and I’m going to find out, now are you with me or not?” Patton declared and looked at Logan expectantly. But he was tired, he was sure now that those spirits drained something from him and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to dive immediately back into that world.

“I- I don’t know,” Logan answered honestly, his voice choked up for some odd reason, Patton’s face softened. 

“I get it if you don’t want to come, you can go downstairs and find Virgil if you want to, I won't stop you. But those demons mentioned Virgil by name, they mentioned someone hurting Virgil, and I want to know who. So are you coming?” Patton said again, gesturing towards the door.

Logan shifted, yes he was tired and, in all honesty, he was very scared, but Virgil was worth it. He may complain about him a lot but Virgil meant everything to him, he’d brave a thousand demon spirits for him.

“Yeah,” Logan whispered. “Yeah, I’m coming.” Gratitude flushed over Patton’s features and he smiled as they exited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y’all! Sorry this part is so short, I was going to compress it all in one chapter but it didn’t feel right so here’s part one of our big adventure *jazz hands* and also of our tired nerd son. Enjoy!  
> Bother me on Tumblr: @will-iswriting-again


	5. Revelations Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talyn's ascension into demonhood wasn't easy

Talyn was good at a lot of things. In their human life they mastered the artistic world, they were a brilliant painter and pigment maker, and their works were sought after throughout Europe. In their demonic life they conquered everything else. 

Talyn had to, as second-in-command to one of Hell’s highest ranking demons, excellence was expected, so excellent they were. They were the ideal demon; cold, isolated, unafraid. They ruled their legions with an iron fist and they were unafraid to use violence against all that stood in their way. 

They mastered divine magic; from the complexities of time manipulation to the simple nature of appearance alterations, Talyn had learned it all. They trained ruthlessly everyday, always in the best fighting condition, constantly ready to strike. Virgil had insisted on it, as danger lurked in every corner of Hell: from angry, tortured souls to jealous demons and Talyn had to be on the lookout for all of them. 

Most of all, they mastered combat. When they first became a demon they were pretty shit at defending themselves, their life on Earth was relatively peaceful so they never felt the need to learn even the most basic self defense. It was so bad that Virgil almost had a heart attack every time Talyn (or Joan, they hadn’t known how to fight either) left his palace in the ninth circle of Hell, where all of Hell’s rulers resided. It took almost twenty years and way too many near death experiences before Virgil laid down the law.

“If you’re going to be my seconds you need to survive to see tomorrow, and you two idiots won't survive if you don’t learn to fight,” He’d said and practically dragged them out by the ear. It took them ten years of training with Missy, Pranks, and Virgil before he was satisfied.

It built a legend around Talyn, Virgil, and Joan- the demon that Talyn shared the second in command title with. They were the oldest seconds still ruling, both hundreds of years older than all the others, as most were killed off after fifty or so years in command. Rumors constantly circulated the three, telling tales of ruthless cruelty and torture (all untrue) and of dark magic (Okay, maybe kind of true. The Renaissance was a weird time.) Some even went as far to theorize that they had died long ago, and mere replacements ruled them now. Those always gave Talyn a reason to laugh, the absurdity of the rumors was almost believable. 

However, it was all a carefully crafted lie. Virgil wasn’t the fear inducing demon Hell thought he was, he wanted to protect people and sometimes his judgement got clouded. But he was working on fixing that, he’s made progress and Talyn is proud of him (However, they will deny they ever said that.) Talyn and Joan weren’t half bad either, in all honesty Talyn hated hurting people, it was why they spent so much time in the first circle of Hell. The first circle wasn’t too bad, in the simplest words, the first circle was for “non-believers,” in more complicated words it was just for anyone who wasn’t perfect. Of course, this was all subjective to the Big Guy Upstairs and from what they’d heard from Virgil he wasn’t as perfect as everyone thought he was. So it was mainly composed of medium people- those who weren’t bad but not good either, rebels, vigilantes, queer people, etcetera. 

The second circle, when the winds weren’t raging, was just a giant orgy, which Talyn was not too thrilled about, but the souls there were nice if you took the time to talk to them. The third circle was alright most of the time, if you didn’t mind the cold. A couple of inventive souls managed to bribe some of the guardian demons into giving the circle rafts to combat the river of slush so it was relatively chill- pun intended. The fourth circle was fifty/fifty most of the time. If you caught it on a good day it’s inhabitants would take you with them while they indulged in the most expensive commodities. If you caught it on an off day, chances are, you’d lose your head so Talyn tended to avoid it all together. The fifth circle and down were… not pleasant, Talyn hated it down there. While the “punished for eternity” bit of Hell was less severe than it had been a thousand years ago (Most souls only had to endure the punishment once a week depending on the severity of the punishment and the crime.) The screams of the lower levels never seemed to end.

Back when Talyn died you didn’t have to do much to end up in some pretty nasty areas of Hell and they had landed in the seventh circle, specifically the centermost ring. 

It was always hot, the sand beneath them burned blisters into their feet and sent red hot scratches around up legs. Dunes piled up thousands of miles high, looming over them until gusts of sharp, cutting wind sent them cascading down on Talyn, suffocating them for weeks on end until another ragged soul dug them out. The water was no reprieve, it burned like acid, boiling and sizzling as it rained down on Talyn’s skin, creating scars of slashes and dots that littered their body. The food was poison, leaving them in a constant state of starvation and longing. It was, to put it lightly, hell. They didn’t leave until almost two hundred years later, when it was time for Virgil to pick new seconds. 

It wasn’t a quick process. Traditionally, souls had to complete nine grueling tasks, each one eliminating those that couldn’t complete them until you had the two perfect seconds at your disposal. It wasn’t in use now but it was in full effect during Talyn’s trial. 

The first task was simple enough, all souls were given two days to navigate a giant maze tucked beneath the first circle. It was possible to reach the end legitimately in the allotted time but you’d have to complete it perfectly first try so Talyn found another way to the end. Using the thick trusses of vines on the walls, they hoisted themselves up the three hundred feet of stone and ran the maze from the top. Occasionally, there was a gap in the wall or another soul in the way, all of which nearly killed Talyn each time they encountered them but Talyn was light, fast and was able to vault themself over the gaps without dying. Souls, on the other hand, were harder to shake, Talyn managed to push several off the walls and outrun others but one almost got them.

The soul had been trailing them for several miles, just close enough that Talyn could tell he was following them. He had slowly been gaining ground on them for twelve hours before he struck. He jabbed Talyn in the side sending them flying across the hard stone and over the edge where they just barely managed to grab onto the edge. He loomed over them, allowing Talyn to get a good look. He was at least seven feet of pure muscle and rage, singed robes flowed loosely over his torso, his body void of any hair and he had a fire in his eyes of sheer determination and desperation. If Talyn had to guess they’d say he was from the sixth circle, where souls were forever buried in flaming tombs, or the outermost ring of the seventh circle, where souls sank in a river of boiling blood and fire.

He dug his nails into Talyn’s hands slowly prying their fingers from the ledge. They grit their teeth as the tough rock tore their skin from the tips of their fingers, leaving trails of blood in its wake. Their right hand slipped, causing them to swing dangerously, the ground below was terrifyingly far and Talyn knew if they fell they’d lose. Glancing around they spotted a thick vine to their left, it would hold if Talyn fell. They discreetly gripped the plant as the soul wrenched their hands from the ledge.

At first, Talyn couldn’t hold on. Their heart pounded as they wildly thrashed for a vine, hands grabbing nothing. Talyn was sure they’d die, which, honestly, they wished would happen. They’d spent a long time in Hell and they’d suffered a lot, they just wanted to go home, yet their home on Earth wasn’t really home either. Sometimes Talyn felt like the worst punishment of all was the loneliness, the feeling that they’d never have anywhere to call home. 

Talyn was sure they’d die but apparently that was too much to ask. By some miracle, or cruel twist of fate depending on who you asked, their limbs managed to snatch onto a mess of foliage halfway down. They landed with a thud, the air knocked out of them. They weren’t sure if they wanted to laugh or cry.

Talyn picked themself up and climbed back up the wall and continued onwards. The climb had taken longer than they would have wished for and had fallen behind the front of the pack, which meant there were souls everywhere. They swarmed in at all sides as Talyn parried and pushed them out of the way. The rest of the challenge seemed to pass in a blur before Talyn reached the end with twelve hours to spare. Just the first task alone had reduced almost the entire population of Hell to only fifteen million. 

They were given a day between each task to rest before the next, which would take place in the second circle, for souls overcome by lust. Souls there were thrown around violently by never-ending raging winds and the task reflected that. They had to cross a desert in the circle, with winds whipping around on and off. Only the first ten million would proceed to the third task.

It seemed impossible at first, the winds seemed to have no pattern and there was nothing to grab a hold of when they came. Talyn was half convinced it was all a trick. But these tasks were designed to amplify qualities that the demon they were competing for valued and this time it was for Virgil. Virgil was one of the original five fallen to be cast out, there weren’t many who outranked him and legends spread quickly. And while many things varied one thing remained constant. Virgil never did something without a reason and letting souls compete in an unbeatable challenge made no sense. There had to be a solution. The whole task was a riddle and all Talyn had to do was solve it. 

Taking the time to really look around Talyn spotted the holy grail, quicksand. It was different in Hell, once you stopped moving the sand around you hardened and it was a shimmering gold instead of a dull beige. Talyn sprinted over to a patch of the sand and ran around the edge as the sand crept up their legs. Once it reached their midthigh Talyn remained deathly still, allowing the patch to harden around them. They stayed there a while, counting the time between each bout of wind. Before long a pattern emerged. Seven minutes no wind, ten minutes wind, fifteen minutes no wind, four minutes wind, two minutes no wind, twenty minutes wind and then the cycle repeated. Using the pattern Talyn flew across the desert, allowing themself to sink along the edges of quicksand when the wind picked up again and digging themself out using ramps of plain sand.

As they ran they saw plenty of souls that had solved the riddle too and were running alongside them. They saw souls that had solved it but were in the middle of quicksand patches, the sand around them hard but if they tried to dig themselves out they merely found more quicksand and would start sinking again. And, of course, there were many souls that never figured it out and were stuck being thrashed around by the wind, but they started to dwindle as Talyn got farther across the desert. 

They managed to finish within the top five hundred, officially within the top of the pack. The finish area was a large slab of marble with protective barriers around the perimeter to protect from the raging winds outside. In the center was tall pillar with stairs leading up to it where Virgil sat, sharp eyes surveying every soul that crossed the finish line. His eyes unnerved Talyn, they felt like he was seeing more than just a possible second, they felt like he was looking into their very essence and it was daunting.

The third task was in the third circle, where gluttonous souls were forced to lie in a dirty slush produced by never ending icy rains. It was also the first task that wasn’t a puzzle. It was simple enough, everyone had to trek across a freezing river of the circle’s slush, find a divine artifact within the river and take it to the other side. However, the artifacts were impossible to find by souls without magical abilities so if you couldn’t find one you would have to steal it. No one told them how many souls would be eliminated, which made the race that much more dangerous, everyone would be battling for first in fear of being eliminated so soon.

Once the task began Talyn almost wanted to thank whoever judged their soul. The years spent in the burning heat had calloused their feet and numbed their limbs to the point that they barely felt the cold, letting them travel across the river at a run where most souls around them were moving sluggishly against the cold.

When they got halfway they decided it was time to look for the artifact. They paused and glanced around. They had no idea if they even had magical abilities, much less how to find the artifacts. They closed their eyes and crouched down, dipping their hand in the river. It was unbearably awkward, standing in the middle of the slush with their eyes closed like an idiot but Talyn didn’t really know what else to do.

They spent hours wading and feeling for nothing before they started to get frustrated. Were they going to lose just because they couldn’t do some damn magic? They felt tears prick their eyes, they should’ve known better than to get their hopes up. There were millions upon millions of souls in Hell, it was foolish to think that Talyn would be one of two lucky enough to escape their torment. A lump grew in their throat.

“God fucking dammit!” They screamed and slapped the ground, a few traitorous tears escaping and slipping down their cheeks. This was the end, they would sent right back to where they came from without a second thought. Guttural sobs broke to the surface, barreling through the metaphorical dam as years of pain and anguish roared forward. Talyn let go, laying everything out, their exhaustion, panic, loneliness, melancholy. They fell to their knees and sobbed to the sky, it was unbearably grey, the cold rain mixing in with their tears. Their yells thundered through their small body, scraping against their throat and pulsing dull aches through their lungs. It could have been minutes or hours or days before Talyn’s screams receded, but soon they couldn’t let anything else out, it was all in the open for the first time in a long time.

That’s when they felt it.

Magic erupted around them, exploding over Talyn in waves of warmth and light. It was soft, safe and comforting, it thawed through the chill in Talyn’s bones as it enveloped Talyn in its warmth. They felt like crying, or maybe laughing, or both. The magic was everywhere, pulsing with the communal hum of life. They let a joyful giggle escape as an artifact nudged against their calf. They ducked down and closed their fist around it, it felt like a ring. They looked around to make sure no one was watching as they subtly slipped the ring into their robes.

Then they ran. They sprinted for miles and miles but it was no longer with urgency. It was freeing, the wind whipping their hair and their legs burning beneath the slush. Talyn had never felt happier. They slowed as they reached the end, an identical stone slab marking the task completion. They crossed over the line and pulled the ring out from their robes. They collapsed on the ground, turning over on their back as they clutched the ring to their chest, soaking in it’s warmth, nothing else seemed to exist outside of Talyn and their magic.. They didn’t even notice the person sitting next to them until they spoke.

“You feel it now don’t you?” A voice asked beside them, it was deep and gravelly, but calming. Talyn hummed and nodded, they were sure they were grinning like an idiot.

“What does it feel like?” They asked, softer this time.

“It- it feels warm,” Talyn responded almost immediately.

“Oh I know that, all magic is warm. I meant how does yours feel? Like does it feel happy or sad or something different, something new?” Talyn could hear the smirk in their words. They contemplated their answer for a moment, focusing in on the ring.

“Safety,” They whispered.

“That’s nice, it’s comforting.” The voice paused. “Mine feels like home.” They, their voice thick and Talyn cracked their eye open to find the speaker.

It was Virgil.

They scrambled up and kneeled, their face burning, he’d never consider Talyn as a second after that embarrassment. 

“I’m so sorry Lord Virgil, I didn’t realize that was you I would have never let my manners slip so easily if I did,” They quickly apologized and hoped Virgil wouldn’t smite them then and there.

“No need for formalities, at least, not while anyone else is around.” Virgil smiled and gently lifted Talyn up, who was slowly realizing that they were the only one there.

“I’m… first?” They muttered in disbelief, to which Virgil chuckled.

“That you are. Probably will be first by a long shot, I wasn’t expecting anyone to arrive for at least another couple days.” Virgil paused and glanced at them. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what’s your name?” Talyn felt like they’d entered an alternate dimension. All other demons they’d met had never even treated them like a person, much less show them kindness and respect.

“T-Talyn… my lord,” They responded, bewildered. “I know I’m out of line asking this but how long did I take on the course. After I found the artifact everything kind of…. Blurred.” 

“You’re not out of line at all Talyn, and please do drop the formalities, just Virgil is fine,” Virgil started. “But to answer your question only four days, in my previous experience contestants take a week minimum to finish this task so your speed is, to put it simply, astounding. Were you a witch on Earth?” 

“No, just a painter,” Talyn replied slowly.

“Hm, odd, surely someone with your magical affinity would have at least noticed it somewhat during your human life.” Virgil said nonchalantly and Talyn frowned.

“I couldn’t feel magic at all until this task, then… something happened and all of a sudden it was everywhere,” Talyn confessed and Virgil shifted.

“I see, that much magic can be overwhelming for a living soul so you probably blocked it out subconsciously.” Virgil explained and stood up. “Now, we’re going to be here for a while so let’s get some food, yeah?” Talyn nodded and silently followed Virgil up to his pillar, they stopped at the base of the stairs.

“W-Wait, am I even allowed up there? And what if someone sees me? Could I get in trouble? Could you?” Talyn asked apprehensively. Virgil turned to look at them.

“Oh you sound like a younger me,” He smirked. “But this platform is reserved for me and anyone I invite up there, so as long as I say you can be up here you’re all good. And if someone sees you then they’ll just know who my top candidate for a second is.” Virgil winked and turned, heading up the stairs with Talyn scurrying behind him.

The top of the pillar was larger than they expected. It was about the size of a large kitchen, with a table covered in delicacies from around the world in the back and a throne for Virgil in the front. Virgil sat at the table and gestured to the seat next to him.

“Sit. Eat,” He said and Talyn did. They piled mountains of food on to their plate, ranging from Asian curries to European dishes their mother used to make them when they were sad to strange dishes from lands Talyn had never heard of, like Maya, Toltec and Purepecha. They shoveled the food into their mouth, savoring each and every bite. They hadn’t eaten in over two hundred years, once they died they didn’t need to eat and there was no food in Hell so they didn’t and finally having a feast in front of them was a little overwhelming. Virgil turned to look at them and a soft smile spread over his features.

“Been a while I take it?” He asked and Talyn nodded vigorously, Virgil laughed.

It was almost a month before all the contestants made it to the stone. Talyn had stayed up on Virgil’s pillar until the first souls had started to appear on the horizon, at which point Talyn felt like it was better they stay anonymous rather than gain so much attention so quickly and risk being targeted by other contestants.

When all the contestants did arrive Virgil slowly descended the stairs of his pillar and turned to face them. His black and purple wings flared out behind him intimidatingly, his horn were sharp and gleaming, and his black robes ruffled in the light wind, signifying his status as an original fallen. He looked terrifying and Talyn was stricken with how quickly he could go from the kind figure Talyn originally met to the powerful leader he was presenting himself as now.

“As you all know, this task was a little more complicated than those previous. Instead of a puzzle to solve this was pure ability because while magic is not required to become a demon it is severely recommended. Especially if you are to be my second. As you all also know, this round didn’t have specific parameters on who gets eliminated because I will be the one choosing who stays and who goes.” Virgil announced, pacing in front of the cluster of souls who’d begun whispering frantically to themselves, even Talyn felt their stomach drop. Sure, Virgil had shown them kindness but it could have been a ploy, they could be sent back right now. Talyn tried to swallow the panic rising within them as Virgil continued.

“The process is simple, anyone who was able to feel the magic within the artifacts move over here. But remember everyone, the angel of truth was a brother in my flock so I will know if you are lying.” He ended, his eyes glittering darkly. Talyn uneasily moved to the right with about a fourth of the contestants. Virgil shook his head. “I told you all not to lie.” He moved within the group and yanked certain souls out, throwing them over to the divine guards, who corralled them in a large group in the center. Talyn watched as their small group was cut in half, there were barely one million souls were left when Virgil was done.

“If you didn’t know, one of the qualities I value is honesty. If you are to be my second I need to know I can trust in troubling times and if you can’t even tell the truth on something as simple as this how can I trust you in battle? You’re all out. The guards will escort you to your circles once we’re done.” Virgil said coldly as wails erupted from the group. “Now to all of you who could feel the magic, you’re safe. However, if your artifact was stolen then do keep in mind I won't be as merciful to such a weakness next time.” Talyn breathed a sigh of relief, tuning Virgil out as he directed his attention to the other group. 

They milled around the group, fiddling with the ring they’d found, Virgil told them they could keep it as they might need it for later. They were taking in everyone, as they would be Talyn’s biggest competition, when someone caught their eye. A soul standing in the middle of the crowd looking incredibly awkward with a black cape with a fluorescent orange hood. The soul was playing with the edge of their cape, whose fabric was old and frayed, and glanced around at everyone before catching Talyn’s eye. They looked like they were contemplating something before walking towards them. Talyn internally panicked, it was too late to pretend like it didn’t happen and they couldn’t risk backing down from a fight but the soul stopped just before them.

“Hey, um, you seem much less murderous than the other souls here so we should work together.” The soul said and Talyn balked at them. “W-Well I just thought that it would be good to team up with someone because the tasks are only going to get harder and we need all the help we can get. And y-you seem alright so I thought maybe you’d be a good choice y’know? I just want a shot to actually win this thing.” Talyn stayed silent, contemplating the offer. It would be good to get a teammate. As well as they were doing now in an actual fight Talyn would lose pretty quickly and this soul seemed alright. 

“Okay, sure,” They agreed and the soul beamed.

“Great! My name’s Joan,” Joan said and stuck out their hand.

“Talyn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeey, guess who's two part mini arc is turning into a four part larger arc because I have no self control? It this bitch! Lmao, still hope you all enjoy the chapter and here's a hella long one! Any theories on what future tasks may be? Thoughts on pre-story Talyn, Virgil and Joan? Ant random questions you want to scream at me? Please comment them as they make my day! Also, I know this was originally supposed to be LAMP but as I was finishing the basis of the plot I realized I just don’t have room for romance in this, especially between certain characters. Sorry!


	6. Revelations Pt. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talyn walked forward, reaching their hand out to let the flames lick their hand as they stepped into it. Immediately, their vision filled into a swirl of lilac that raged around them in a thousand directions and felt so much like themself but renewed, cleaner, powerful, and free. Talyn smiled and welcome the flames into them.

Talyn didn’t know who’d they’d be if they hadn’t befriended Joan all those years ago. Would they still be kind? Or would they have been hardened into the cruel souls that haunted Hell’s darkest corners, turning their backs on the world like the world turned its back on them. Would they still be themselves? Or would they have faded into insanity, being just another endless scream, doomed to an eternity of unrest. 

Maybe they would have befriended someone else. Maybe that soul would’ve made it through the trials with them. Maybe Talyn would have done it all alone. Maybe they wouldn’t have become Virgil’s second in the first place. That thought was truly terrifying. If Talyn hadn’t become Virgil’s second they think they would have died, they wouldn’t have lived to become angry and jaded or lose their mind. Thy would have died in pain, alone, and afraid.

See, demonhood was a one-shop stop sort of deal. When a Fallen Angel needed new seconds the criteria to participate was simple, you must have lived in Hell for at least one hundred years and have never tried for demonhood before. If Talyn hadn’t become a second during Virgil’s trial they would have been stuck in the seventh circle for the rest of eternity, all the changes Talyn had worked so hard to implement would have never happened.

In that sense, they owed everything to Joan. They’d inadvertently saved Talyn’s life, and they would owe Joan forever for that. They saved Talyn in little ways too, even during their trials Joan was always trying to lighten the mood. Whether it be through a witty quip or dumb pun they never failed to make Talyn’s day a little brighter.

“Hey, Talyn,” Joan piped up as they tossed a leather saddle over their horse’s back. “What did the knight say to his friend after he lost the jousting match?” Talyn hummed, their shaking hands fumbling with their mare’s harness as they tried to quell the panic rising within them. 

“What?” They asked quietly.

“Joust, that hurt,” They grinned and Talyn cracked a small grin, before dissolving into shaky laughter. The knot in their stomach unraveled, just a little bit, and Talyn shot Joan an appreciative glance. Joan smiled back and put a gentle hand on their shoulder. “You’ll do great, don’t worry.” 

Talyn let out a breath. “Thanks, I’ll need all the luck I can get.” They admitted, a new wave of nausea coursing through them. They’d been feeling like this for the past couple days, when Virgil announced the next trial and to say it was the worst thing trial he could have given them was an understatement. It was Talyn’s worst nightmare.

Jousting.

It wasn’t necessarily the jousting that was the issue, jousting was a fine sport. Talyn and their family had gone to see plenty of jousting matches. They loved the theoretical sport of jousting, and they loved watching other people joust. It wasn’t jousting that was problem, it was Talyn. They’d tried jousting at their father’s request once, and had spent months with a broken leg afterwards. They just weren’t made for it, they could ride expertly but the moment you put a lance in Talyn’s small hands it all just fell apart. And, unless Talyn magically developed a knack for jousting, it was going to be the death of them.

They adjusted their armor again, trying, and failing, to right the tilt of their helmet. Joan, noticing their struggle, chuckled and walked over, grabbing the strap beneath their chin.

“It wasn’t tight enough, you dork,” They laughed and pulled the strap so it rested comfortably against their jaw. “Better?”

“Yeah,” Talyn admitted sheepishly. “Thanks.” They smiled and patted Joan’s arm affectionately. They let out drawn out breath as they mounted their horse, moving slightly to make sure the rest of their armor was secured correctly. Joan sent them one last smile for good luck before they hopped onto the back of their own horse and trotted to their arena before Virgil announced the start of the competition.

Talyn shook themself and guided their horse to Arena Seven, where they would most likely meet their doom. Talyn felt overdramatic whenever they thought like that. But it did truly feel like their doom, it felt like the end of the world. 

Talyn shook their head, hyping themself up would only cause more conflict. They just had to stay calm and think.

It was a traditional arena, wooden walls towering high above Talyn’s head with bands of metal wrapped around the outside and a large stone arch as a door. They could hear the roars of the demons that had come to watch the fights, this trial being the only one open to spectators. Talyn could see their opponent, a large, burly man with enough chest hair to make up for his lack of armor and a sword large enough Talyn doubted they’d even need their shield. They gulped. They were definitely losing. Talyn zeroed their magic in on him, catching the murmur of his conversation.

“I’ve got this in the bag,” He boasted to the soul next to him, a lanky young boy serving drinks to the spectators. “I was a famous jouster in my day, I’d beaten the best in all the lands.” The boy nodded off-handedly, trying to wriggle out of the grasp the man had on him and get back into the arena.

“Yes sir, you’re very good sir.” The boy rushed and squirmed. 

“Now those are the words I like to here,” The man laughed, face red. “Now be a good lad and get me a drink!” The boy nodded his head vigorously and dashed back through the doors, Talyn doubted he’d return. 

The guard demon at the entrance turned to Talyn, gesturing towards the entrance. They guessed it was time. They took a steadying breath and patted their horse’s neck.

“We’ve got this,” They muttered, more as a reassurance to themself than anything else. Their opponent cantered in confidently, his white stallion’s head held high as the crowd roared. They trotted in after him, trying their best to match his grandeur while the crowd cheered and yelled. After making several rounds around the arena they made their way to the end of the grounds, taking their place on the right side of the dividing line. 

“Today’s joust, to advance in His Lord Virgil’s race for Second in Commands, pits Third Circle Gareth against our slight, but not to be underestimated, Seventh Circle Resident Talyn,” Roared a voice overhead. “As usual, these jousts are a three out of five match. There will be no rematches or sympathy. May the best jouster win!”

Talyn’s eyes blurred as sweat dripped from their forehead onto their brow. Gareth looked unfazed as his horse pawed the ground. 

“First round, on your mark! Get set! Go!” The announcer roared and Talyn galloped forward, jousting lance held forward, hoping to hit something. They didn’t. It was no contest, Gareth knocked them down from their horse immediately, his skill and physical prowess out matching Talyn’s significantly. They groaned and rolled over in the dirt, pressing a hand against the spot where the lance hit their armor, it looked like it was going to bruise painfully. They dusted themself off and dragged their horse back to the end of the arena, cold shame burning in their stomach.

“Ouch!” The announcer cried. “A crushing first round for Talyn!” Talyn winced, embarrassment burning their cheeks. Talyn scrambled to gather their thoughts as the next round drew closer. Their father would have won this battle easily, he was a master jouster, Talyn thought bitterly, trying to remember any advice he had given Talyn. They should’ve paid more attention in lessons. What had they’re father said? Half battle was figuring out your opponent. But how? Talyn knew what it was, it was right on the tip of their tongue. A- a- a tell! Memories of their father’s advice slowly trickled to the front of Talyn’s memory, they just had to find a weak spot, or a movement he made just before he struck. But they only had one chance, if they lost three rounds it was all over. 

The announcer’s voice roared a countdown and the two were off again. Talyn held their lance but stared at their opponent, they waited for the right moment. He galloped forward.

Raised his jousting arm.

His horse leaned down.

His shield shifted back and-

There! 

He knocked Talyn off effortlessly but they didn’t care. Right before he struck he shifted his shield, just a tiny bit, but enough that they left their stomach and chest wide open. They grinned to themself and galloped back to their starting point.

The announcer’s voice blurred, it became a vague white noise in the back of their head. They started running. Time slowed down. Their senses heightened. Slowly, Gareth leaned, getting ready to strike. Talyn watched as his shield inched away from him and time sped back up again as Talyn thrust their lance into his weak spot and he toppled to the ground, a look of shock overcoming him. Talyn beamed as they reached the end, the crowd cheering wildly, screams filling the air.

“It seems like Talyn is back in it folks!” The announcer cried. “They serve as a constant reminder never to underestimate the underdog. But will they be able to snag the win?”

And they did. The fourth round passed just as the one before it had. Then they did it again. Their opponent couldn’t seem to figure out what was wrong, what had happened. The crowd roared while they were announced the winner as flowers, laurels, and coins were thrown at their feet.

When all the commotion died down they sprinted out to see how Joan had done. They ran to a small pillar outside the stables where the two had promised to meet. They saw Joan there, humming to themself with a small smile on their face.

“I won! I won! I won!” They cried joyfully and jumped on top of them, tackling Joan in a hug. “We get to move on!” Joan beamed.

“That’s amazing!” They said. “I got lucky, my competitor could rarely ride a horse. I don’t think I could have won against an actual jouster.” Talyn shook their head. 

“Sure you could have,” Talyn assured them. “Jousting itself is only half the battle.”

The fifth task proved to be about as difficult as they last. All competitors left were to swim across the river of blood in the circle and board Virgil’s best naval ship, armed with cannons, burning metal, and spikes around the rim, without getting dragged into the depths of the liquid by the souls that inhabited the circle. The two learned the trick to getting across easily, any part of your body that wasn’t completely submerged in liquid couldn’t be touched so the they floated on their back and slowly paddled their way to the boat. Once they were there they realized the spikes had a small surface to climb on the the two were able to board, blood soaked and exhausted, but there nonetheless.

The sixth task was a little more difficult. All competitors were placed in pairs and forced inside one of the circle’s flaming tombs. They then had to solve three puzzles to find a key to escape, doing it all before the walls, that were slowly closing in on them, crushed them. 

It was hard for Talyn, they had been out of the heat of the seventh circle for so long that the tombs scorched their skin. Joan could rarely think, as being back in their circle was proving to be very overwhelming for them. But they did it, they managed to think through the haze of pain and memories and get the key, getting out of the tomb in the knick of time.

They couldn't remember the seventh circle. 

The entire day had been wiped completely from their memory. They remembered the night before, when Joan had given them a tight hug, filled with empathy and knowing. The remembered trying to fall asleep as they fought off flashbacks and panic attacks. They remembered the nightmares that plagued them once they did rest. They remembered wandering over to where Joan slept, wiggling into their grasp, and falling into a dreamless sleep. 

But after that it all went blank. For hundreds of years they tried and failed to figure out what happened that day. Joan refused to tell them, they would get fidgety and stutter then come up with an excuse to go. If Virgil knew anything he sure wasn't budging. They tried every type of memory magic there was, from hypnosis to straight out mind exploration but nothing worked. The memory was either buried too deep to be reached, or it was… taken. 

That's what worried Talyn. They had enough repressed memories and adding one more to the pile wasn't too bad, although a little inconvenient. But if someone had forcibly wormed their way into Talyn's brain and plucked out their memories like fruits in harvest they wouldn't know what to do. The memory was theirs, it was their experiences and their life. It filled Talyn with strange feelings that made their stomach churn and their blood boil.

Talyn knew that wasn’t the case, the only people that could have done were Virgil and Joan, both whom Talyn trusted with their life. Yet, the day never ceased to give Talyn an uneasy feeling. The feeling had first started when they woke up after the trial to Joan almost flipping their shit when Talyn said they didn’t remember. Joan’s surprise had seemed almost... Too surprising. It didn’t seem much like Joan at all. Talyn’s brain picked up on this immediately, it kept them hyper alert as they carried on to the eighth trial and they were sure that was the only reason they were able to complete the task.

“The rules of this task are simple,” Virgil started, looking over the small group left, less than one hundred, excluding Talyn and Joan. “Each of you will be given a card with five numbers on it, ranging from one to twenty. These numbers correspond to a question that will be put up for all to see in just a moment or two. For each question on your card you must lie for your answer, the other fifteen questions must be answered truthfully. There will be a guard demon who knows your card to make sure you all follow the rules.

“You will then be paired with another soul. One of you will answer the questions first and the other will try and figure out which ones you lied on. If the guesser cannot find all five lies then the two souls will switch roles. If the guesser finds the lies then they will move onto the final task and the person lying will be immediately eliminated. If neither are able to guess the lies then they will switch partners and the process will repeat itself. Understand?” 

A ripple of nerves ran through the crowd as each soul surveyed the remaining competition. Half of them would be eliminated today. The odds were not in their favor today, Talyn thought grimly as they looked around. There were some that were obviously being eliminated, those that wore their emotions on their sleeve, those that were just too easy to read. Then there were some obvious threats, those that hadn’t shown the slightest change in emotion, and even more worrying, those who cracked a smile. 

“Statistically, we have a one in two shot of making it through,” Joan said and gave Talyn’s wrist a reassuring squeeze. “That’s not too bad, we’ll be fine.” They wished they could believe that. They knew they had a shot, they weren’t a terrible liar, but if they were up against someone who was really good, they didn’t stand a chance.

Several of the guards milled around the rows of souls, passing the cards out one by one. Talyn took theirs gingerly and turned away to glance at it. 4, 10, 14, 9, 18. Five numbers, five small numbers that would decide the fate of Talyn’s soul. Talyn looked up to the stone walls of the eighth circle, where the twenty questions were shown in flames. 

4\. What circle do you come from?

10\. Biggest regret?

14\. Death day?

9\. Happiest memory?

18\. Favorite color?

All the other questions were just as simple. Where did you live on earth(2)? Favorite food(15)? Best friend(11)? All questions that were easy to lie on. Talyn swallowed the lump in their throat. This was going to be harder then they thought. 

The building the task was set in was simple. A long stone structure sectioned off in about fifty identical rooms of similar nature, two wooden chairs sat across from each other with a guard at the entrance to each room. Talyn creeped in and handed their card to the guard, a lower demon with crimson red skin and calloused hands, his face concealed by a dark helmet. A small soul was already there, a girl, no older than twelve, with fiery red, northern hair and sharp black eyes. A long, jagged scar ran from the side of her face and disappeared beneath her tunic. Talyn internally cringed, she was probably the unfortunate victim of old wars, they bet it was the Romans invasion of Britannia, much before Talyn’s time but would explain how someone as young as her made it to the eighth task.

They sat across from the girl, looking her over; her face showed no emotion, those steely eyes unwavering and boring into Talyn’s very soul. She tracked every minute movement they made, every flick of an eye or unsteady breath, Talyn didn’t know what their tell was but they hoped it wasn’t something very visible. 

“Let’s get this over with,” The girl said, her voice just as sharp as the rest of her persona. She leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms. “Okay, lie to me.” 

“You’ve got to ask me the questions first,” Talyn replied, falling into a more sarcastic persona. The girl huffed but complied.

“What was your earthly religion?” She drawled and picked her fingernail, feigning disinterest.

“Catholic.” Truth, they lived in Europe in the year one thousand, Catholicism was the only religion Talyn knew.

2- France. Truth

3- Murder. Truth

4- Sixth Circle. Lie. The burns from the Seventh Circle could easily be mistaken for the burns of the Sixth.

5, 6, 7, 8- All truth. 

9- Selling their first pigments. Lie, it was the first time their father took them out hunting.

10- Being unable to follow their dreams. Lie. They wished they’d told their family about their gender at least once before death.

11- Truth 

12, 13- Truth

14- July 15th, 1003. Lie, just off by a day, they died on the 14th.

15- Truth.

16, 17- Truth.

18- Orange. Lie, nothing beat the majesty that was royal purple, a color Talyn used to dream of wearing.

19, 20- Truth. 

As the questions drew to a close the girl scrunched her face in concentration. Talyn squirmed, their heart pounding as the girl tried to guess their lie. If she had figured them out, her face showed no indication, Talyn hated how hard it was to read this girl and how easy it seemed for her to read them. It left Talyn feeling unnaturally vulnerable.

“You’re lies are four.” 

Talyn’s heart stopped.

“Nine.”

Their throat closed.

“Ten.” 

Blood roared in their ears.

“Fourteen.” 

Betraying tears welled in their eyes.

“Twenty.”

They paused. The girl knew their tell. She obviously knew their tell. Why didn’t they eliminate them? It would’ve been much easier to get them out of the competition. Talyn stared at the girl incredulously while she glared back.

“What?” She snapped. “I lost.” She shrugged but Talyn thought she saw something flicker behind her eyes, something too vulnerable to be this bitter child. “Are you going to ask me questions now or what?”

Talyn snapped back to reality, apologizing quickly and launched into the interrogation.

One and two were identical, probably truths. Three though, was the kicker.

“What was your earthly religion?” Talyn asked.

“Catholicism.” The girl replied and Talyn hid their triumph, the girl was so obviously not Catholic that Talyn wanted to scream. They just had to find the difference in their answer from the others.

They replayed the scene over and over as they asked question four. And again in question five. Talyn paused. Something was off about the fifth answer, the girl did something different. 

She stopped twirling her hair. 

She had done it in the third answer as well. Talyn smirked to themself and started asking again.

Six and seven were truths. So was eight. Nine and ten were as well. Eleven and twelve were lies. So was fifteen. They finished the twentieth question and paused. Mulling their answers over in their head.

They could eliminate the girl now. They knew all her lies, it would be easy. But she had spared Talyn earlier, it wouldn’t be right. Still, she had made that decision, not Talyn. Her fate was not Talyn’s responsibility, they shouldn’t harbor any guilt eliminating this girl. Yet… Talyn sighed, why did people have to be nice?

“You lied on three,” Talyn watched the girl still. “Five, eleven, twelve.” The girl looked ready to break down, frozen as Talyn exposed her. “And eighteen.” They said, might as well scare her as much as they scared them.

The girl let out a breathy laugh. “Thank you,” She whispered. 

“Do you always play with your hair?” Talyn asked, trying to hint to the girl her mistake. It seemed like she got it as the realization dawned on her face. “Also, you look pretty Roman… I would have never guessed you were Catholic.” The girl discreetly nodded, seeming to know what Talyn was hinting at.

“I know it’s hard to believe but it’s true.” She said nonchalantly. “Good job distracting me though, it was hard to find your lies with all those extra movements.” Talyn had barely moved a muscle, but they knew what the girl was trying to say at. 

“Just one of my many talents.” Talyn quipped back and stood up. They grabbed their card from the guard, who escorted them from the room. They sent one more fleeting glance towards the little girl, who seemed to be mouthing a thank you. Talyn smiled.

They were able to eliminate their next partner. Their tell was so obvious they marveled at how they had made it past even one person. They hadn’t even needed to use the girl’s advice on their partner. They were then directed to a large pavilion where a few souls milled around, eating from the large table in the center, piled high with food and drink. Talyn saw Virgil sitting in a black throne at the front of the pavilion, and they swore the demon almost winked at them. They slinked their way over to a back corner, relaxing slightly as they carefully surveyed each person that made it out while they nibbled on some bread and cheese. The young girl managed to get through, her flaming hair catching Talyn’s eye instantly. Her gaze found Talyn as she looked around the room and headed over to where the soul was.

“Looks like we both made it,” She remarked, her exterior much softer then it was earlier than it was earlier. 

“That we did,” Talyn replied distractedly. It had a long time, almost too long, and Joan had yet to come through the doors. They could hear the girl speaking to them, but they ignored her, Joan was of the most importance right now. The girl knit her brows and snapped her fingers in front of Talyn’s face, who did nothing.

“Are you okay, man?” She asked. “You seem worried.”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine,” They said, their voice rising in pitch. “It’s not like my best friend has yet to make it through those doors. But, you know, no big deal.” The girl’s face melted in understanding.

“Oh,” She murmured. “I hope they make it. I lost my friend in the fifth task, it sucks.” Talyn hummed, they were sure it was. A few stragglers were making their way through the doors and Talyn willed one of them to be Joan. They wished and prayed, their nails digging into their elbows as they walked into Talyn’s line of sight.

And there they were, in their familiar orange cloak, wearing a small smile that reminded Talyn of home. Leisurely making their way over to Talyn and their new companion. Once they were close enough Talyn launched themself into Joan’s arms, clutching their waist.

“Don’t you ever worry me like that again. You could have been eliminated, I might have never seen you again.” They cried into their shirt, muffled by Joan’s chest. They chuckled.

“I won't,” They gently pried Talyn from their waist. “Who’s your new friend?” They gestured to the girl, who was standing to the side awkwardly, unsure of what to do during the reunion.

“Oh, this is my friend.. Um…” They paused, suddenly aware that the didn’t know the girl’s name.

“Aisha,” She supplied. “Nice to meet you.” Joan grinned.

“Nice to meet you too,” They replied. “Welcome to the dream team.” They joked and Talyn, for the first time in a very long time, felt like they were home.

***

When the final soul ran through the doors Virgil stood up.

“Normally,” He started, gaining everyone’s rapt attention immediately. “I’d dismiss you all to rest before the next task. But that’s not happening today. Because the ninth and final task has already begun.” They grinned wolfishly as the three souls in the back gave each other worried glances. With a snap of Virgil’s fingers the guards advanced on the group of souls. Three of the guards hurried towards the group and yanked them apart, the guard that grabbed Talyn dragged them in front of Virgil by their elbow and threw them down. Joan and Aisha appeared next to them, along with seven other souls. Talyn squeezed their eyes shut, ready to be sent away.

“You ten are my final pick.” Virgil said and Talyn whipped their head up, shocked. “You are all souls I’ve watched with great interest and souls I would be proud to have as seconds.” Talyn flushed. “The rest of you are eliminated. The guards will escort you back to your circles.”

The souls started screaming. They yelled of how it wasn’t fair, kicking and fighting back against the guards who just threw them over their shoulders like they were nothing. Other souls collapsed, sinking to the floor in anguish as they let the guards drag them away with little resistance. Talyn couldn’t help the twist in their gut they felt for those souls. That could’ve been them, it could have easily been them, they had almost lost hundreds of times to get here. Joan and Aisha seemed uncomfortable too, they gently squeezed Joan’s pinky.

Once the souls were gone Virgil turned back to them. “Of course, you all know I can only choose two of you to be my seconds. However, all you of you here will advance to demonhood, you may be under the command of my seconds or work in my palace or be a guard in one of the Circle’s but congratulations, you’ve all done it.” Virgil gave them all a small smile and Talyn felt their heart soar as tears welled in their eyes. They never had to go back to that dreaded circle again. 

They were free. Tears fell down their cheeks freely, but for once, it wasn’t because of anguish or fear. It was because they were so unbearably happy. They never imagined, not for one moment, that they’d be here, being told by Lord Virgil, one of the highest demons in all of Hell, that they were to become a demon. They let out a breathy laugh, nothing would ever compare to this… ever.

“So I guess this isn’t really a final task. I suppose it’s just an initiation,” Virgil commented. “And so, I’m very pleased to say that Talyn and Joan will be my new seconds. I’ve tracked your abilities throughout these tasks and none here compare in your magic ability and problem solving. You both are kind and compassionate, important qualities a leader needs. You both have the potential to become something great, and so I have given you the first step. Become the best you can be with me.” Talyn couldn’t move, they’d been floored. Their mouth gaped as they stared at Virgil in bewilderment. It felt like a dream, this wasn’t happening, nothing this wonderful happened to Talyn. And yet, it didn’t seem like a dream. Yes, the one part of their brain that wasn’t out to get them whispered. This is really happening. Their tears started again with more vigor.

They were dimly aware of Joan pulling them both up as they stumbled before the demon, falling to their knees before him. They could see the other soul’s awed stares and Aisha’s proud grin. Virgil lifted them to their feet and Talyn was startled by how soft his gaze was.

“No need for formalities anymore, we work together now.” He said. “Come, all of you, it’s time to officiate the ceremony.” He led the ten souls behind his throne and to a long path that led out of the pavilion to the gated area. Large iron gates blocked their path to the an obsidian pavilion almost identical to the one in the ninth task’s that sat behind it. Talyn could see a giant white flame within a slim metal frame. Next to it sat the other four leaders of Hell, the Original Fallen Angels, Lucifer, Abaddon, Beelzebub and Lilith. Talyn almost fainted then and there.

Virgil muttered a short Latin phrase and the doors swung open, gaining the attention of those already their.

“Back so soon brother?” Lucifer asked, sipping from a gold challas, his eyebrow raised. “I knew you’d chosen your ten already but I didn’t know you knew who the seconds were so quickly.”

“Yes, I had made my decision long ago, I merely needed to see if they would complete the tasks,” Virgil responded.

“I see, are you satisfied with your decision?” Lucifer asked, rising from his throne. 

“Of course, here is Talyn and Joan, my Second in Commands,” Virgil presented them proudly as the Fallen Angels gave them a once over. 

“The one in orange looks strong-” Beelzebub piped up.

“And like a leader.” Abaddon finished.

“The other seems smart,” Lucifer commented on Talyn and they felt their cheeks heat.

“And their magical power is overflowing. Good choices brother, good choices indeed,” Lilith applauded and Talyn felt a surge of pride. 

“Step forward,” Lucifer beckoned them in front of the fire as the two walked up to it. “Do you swear to serve Hell and it’s rulers for the rest of your life?”

“We do,” They responded.

“Do you swear to follow me and my legions, trusting in me as a leader and comrade?” Virgil asked, having stepped next to Lucifer. 

“We do.”

“Do you swear to rule your legions fairly-”

“And train them all to become great warriors?” Beelzebub and Abaddon asked and Talyn felt something new and powerful bubble within them.

“We do.”

“And finally,” Said Lilith. “Do you swear to protect Hell and it’s inhabitants in the same way it would do for you?”

“We do,” Talyn choked out, tears threatening to spill once again. They just couldn’t stop crying today could they? 

“Then step through the fire and fulfill your destiny.” Virgil said, gesturing towards the fire, which seemed to pull on Talyn’s core, latching on to the new feeling within them. They watched Joan step through first, the fire lighting up in a magnificent orange that swirled and pushed itself into Joan’s back. They gasped and stumbled out the other side as the white fire relit. 

Talyn walked forward, reaching their hand out to let the flames lick their hand as they stepped into it. Immediately, their vision filled into a swirl of lilac that raged around them in a thousand directions and felt so much like themself but renewed, cleaner, powerful, and free. Talyn smiled and welcome the flames into them. 

They felt the light fill every fiber of their being, crackling over their skin like lightning as new power surged through their veins. For a moment, everything burned with the heat of one thousands suns and Talyn stumbled forward blindly. Then it died down and Talyn found themself kneeling on the other side of the gate, breathing heavily. 

They felt…. Different. Different in a good way, there was no more exhaustion plaguing their eyes or aches in their muscles. Their senses were sharpened and suddenly Hell didn’t look very dark anymore, it was bright and Talyn could see the sun, a light breeze licked their face. Their magic no longer felt like something bottled up inside, it was in every part of them and it was everywhere. In the other Fallen Angels, in the remaining souls, in the ground and the trees and the air and the light. 

Their physical appearance was different as well. Their skin was a faint lilac hue and they could see the definition of muscles on their arms. They were no longer wearing their tattered robes from their death, but were now wearing new red ones matched with gleaming black armor. Their head had a new weight to it and Talyn reached their hand up to be met with horns, small horns that curled like a spiral above their head, similar to a gazelle’s. On their back was a similar weight, one that Talyn could only assume were the same wings all other demons had. They turned to look at Joan, who’d had similar alterations, their skin was a lighter shade of orange, same color as the fire that was within them, their horns curled down and around their ears like a rams.

The two stared at each other for a moment before dissolving into wet laughter, clutching each other’s arms in for support. They made their way around to Virgil and stood by his side, now finally part of the Hellish elite. They watched as the five Fallen recited a similar oath for the remaining eight souls to follow as they stepped into the fire, though it was burning significantly less than it had for them. They saw Aisha’s fiery red, just as loud and bright as her hair. There was a dark blue, a teal, a green and-

And something was wrong. Something didn’t feel right. Everything was playing out how it should, yet Talyn could feel unease welling up within them. They could hear faint screaming and they whipped around trying to find the source of the noise. They felt something very, very hot licking their side and they quickly turned to Joan to ask for help. 

But they weren’t moving, their face was frozen mid-word, a half smile unmoving on their cheeks They looked around, it wasn’t just Joan, no one was moving, no one at all. The wind had stilled and ever the fire was frozen. Everything went deathly silent aside from the echoed screaming. The noise was getting louder and Talyn could feel something- no someone- shaking their shoulder.

Talyn, Talyn, Talyn. A faint whisper echoed in their ears. Talyn, Talyn, Talyn, Talyn-

“Talyn, Talyn please get up. We- I don’t know what to do,” A familiar voice cried and Talyn groaned. They blinked blearily. Their side hurt, burned actually. Their faced was pressed against the ground and their head pounded. They pushed themself up slowly as they tried to remember what happened.

They were in the palace, in charge of running the grounds until Virgil came back down to Hell. They’d been chatting with Joan when- when a fire broke out. Yes, a fire broke out and they ran to see what it was to find someone. Who was it? Who was it? An angel! Yes and angel with an ugly sneer and a sword too large for Talyn’s taste. His name was… Camael. He said he was a demon exterminator, he’d attacked the two and they were defending themselves just fine when- 

A sharp pain rang through their torso.

When another “exterminator” ran a sword through Talyn’s side. Then it all went black. They turned their head, pressing their palm to a small cut on their forehead and wiping the blood from their eye.

Aisha’s worried face stared at them. “Thank god you’re awake,” She said and tore off her cloak, ripping off a piece and pressing it to Talyn’s side wound. “I’ve been searching for you and Joan for hours. The angels have been destroying everything, they- they’ve already killed so many of the Palace staff and are brutally torturing the others. I rounded up who I could but I don’t know what to do.” Her voice rose with each sentence and Talyn was reminded that while Aisha was a two thousand year old demon General she was also a twelve year old girl, a child who died too young, alone and afraid. 

“Breathe, I’m fine, you’re fine. This will all be over before you know it,” They told the frantic girl and grabbed her arm, both to hoist the both of them up and to try and stabilize her mindset. “I need you to gather all the souls left and go to Lady Lilith. Tell her what happened and that I’m going to get Virgil from Earth as soon as possible.” The girl’s face crumpled.

“I- I can’t leave you here!” She cried. “You’re hurt, you could die if I leave you alone-”

“And you will definitely die if you stay!” Talyn snapped. “This isn’t a debate, this is an order. Go. If myself, Joan, or Virgil isn’t back within a week ask Lady Lilith to send a messenger up to Earth to find us.”

“But-”

“Go!” Talyn yelled and Aisha stumbled back, nodding and sprinting away. Once she was safely out of sight Talyn limped to one of the room’s pillar’s leaning heavily as they attempted light healing magic. They weren’t strong enough to heal much but it was enough to clear their head and numb some of the pain. 

They straightened and ran through the halls, their ears strained for Joan or the angels. As they ran through the rooms their heart began to break. Fire singed the furniture and was eating the curtains, the walls were cracked and chipping, and blood painted the whole place. Aisha wasn’t exaggerating, everything really was destroyed. 

A tear slid down Talyn’s cheek. This was their home. It was their home, and Joan’s home, and Aisha’s and all the palace staff and soldier’s. It had been their home for almost one thousand years, it was where they trained, where they ate and joked and made friends. It was their everything and now it was gone.

A scream broke Talyn from their grief. They picked up their speed and raced towards the sound, skidding to a halt when they saw it. Joan, dangling several feet above the ground in Camael’s choke hold, their robes stained with blood and a long gash on their leg. They gasped for air, clawing at the Angel’s iron hands. Talyn tried to run in, grabbing their daggers when they felt a sharp poke on their wound and a hand twist their arm behind their back.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, demon,” A voice spat and Talyn spotted the angel who’d stabbed them earlier. “Unless you want your friend to die a much more painful death.” She was young, very young. Her wings still mainly down instead of feathers that were a sunset orange on the tips. Golden freckles dusted her cheeks and framed her green eyes and blond hair.

Camael seemed to notice Talyn at the sound of his companion’s voice and turned, a sneer curling his lips when he spot them. “So the demon lives,” He growled. “I thought you’d die easier than that. But no matter, you’ll be purged from this life soon enough. Good job Eae, you’re improving greatly.” The angel beamed, her wings ruffling with pride.

“What do you want?” Talyn growled. “Demons have not made any slight against the Angels in centuries. Why attack us?”

“Why attack you?” Camael laughed. “You demons really are as dumb as they say. We attack you because you are evil, you are dirty, you don’t deserve to breath.” He wrenched, his eyes lighting with hate. Talyn stepped back, they knew Angels didn’t like demons, they’d been to enough heavenly meetings to get the memo but this? This was different, it was frightening. The Angels didn’t like them, but they knew they were necessary, just like the Demons knew the Angels were. That was what had kept the peace for the last six hundred years. 

He directed his attention back to Joan, who looked ready to pass out. He smirked evilly and thrust his sword into Joan’s chest, who gasped, their eyes bulging before they slumped, crumpling to the floor as Camael dropped them. Talyn cried out, thrashing against Eae’s grip. They made a split second decision, deciding the risk of scaring the young angel was nothing compared to the risk of losing Joan.

They knelt down, flipping the angel over their shoulder, grabbed the same arm that was holding Talyn and reversed their position, pointing their blade at the angel’s neck instead of side.

“You kill one of mine, I kill one of yours,” They said, venom leaching from their words. Joan wasn’t actually dead, yet, their mind supplied, but Talyn needed something, anything to use as leverage against the Angel. And it was obvious that this angel was being manipulated by the older angel. But Talyn had a millennia of combat training under their belt, and no angel as young as Eae would be able to best them.

“Let her go you foul creature,” The angel growled darkly. The angel, shook in Talyn’s grip and they almost let her go out of pure pity. Almost.

“You give me back the demon and I give you the angel,” Talyn retaliated. “Then you both leave. My forces are gathering the legions of Lady Lilith as we speak, you don’t want to be caught down here when she arrives do you?” Camael visibly paled, he knew if he was caught he’d be sentenced to death by both Angels and Demons, attacking another divinity without cause was the one of the most forbidden of laws. 

“Fine,” Camael relented and grabbed Joan by their waist and tossing them over, their limp body soaring through the air. Talyn sent out a cradle of healing magic that encompassed their friend and settled them gently against the ground. “Now give me the girl.” Talyn grunted and pushed the Angel forward, who ran and hid behind the elder. 

“Now leave,” Talyn commanded, the angels turned, their wings set to take off before Camael paused.

“Make sure to run and tell your master that I’m waiting for him. Let him know that I, Camael, destroyer of Demons and Evil, will best Virgil, the most wretched evil of them all.” Then he took off, powerful wings beating in the air as they sped towards the entrance into Hell.

Talyn frowned and hurried over to Joan’s side, assessing their injuries. They could barely tell what was hurt and where through all the blood, and their energy was diminishing fast. This was nothing their magic could heal, especially as weak as they were. They gripped Joan bridal style and let their leathery bat wings unfold. They took off in the same direction as the angels, determined to find Virgil soon, or else Joan was sure to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had so much fucking writers block and this hurt so much to write I'm fucking dying. But hey, I'm not dead, only one more part of this exposition arc before we get into the RisInG aCtIoN. And next chapter we're back with the boys! Also, I was too lazy to spend half an hour formatting this in rich text to add italics so just pretend they're there. Or see the correct version of it on my Tumblr @will-iswriting-again


	7. Important Update!!

I updated this on my tumblr a little while ago but the reason I haven't updated in like fifty years in because I've been re-doing GA. I wasn't satisfied with the writing of it and I changed a lot of it from what I planned originally and some of those new things directly conflicted with the original GA. Don't worry! Most of the stuff you know now stayed the same, like the main four and Amitiel but other stuff would not have made sense in like 3 more updates. So, I've decided to delete this Grey Area and I'm going to post all the new updates to this link here:[Grey Area: Book l- Exodus](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16227584/chapters/37932269) I'm going to leave this up for a week so y'all have time to read this but thank you everyone who sent kudos or commented or reblogged and liked on Tumblr. You guys mean the world to me and have really given me the motivation to keep writing GA, which has quickly turned into my favorite project :)

**Author's Note:**

> I've been waiting forever to finally write this i'm so excited. I hope you all enjoy!


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